The Line
by Mstar the Cat Demon
Summary: My heart and mind were at constant war with each other, and frankly, I didn't know which would win. The only thing that I was sure of, was that a line would be drawn and I would have to decide which side of it I was going to be on. H.OC slight D.G R.Hr


_Tealeaves: A Prologue_

_By Mstar_

Humanity is ridiculous and unreasonable. It is in our nature to want that which we cannot have. He seemed to be the exception- at least at first. He wanted power and he got it. He seemed to be on top of the world and on the brink of conquering it. But wizards really should read some of the muggle laws of physics, as many of them actually do apply. I believe it was Newton who once said, "What goes up, must come down." I suppose he got what he deserved. I mean, turning his wand on an innocent like that. An _infant_.

So he lost it all. Well maybe not _all_, but all that mattered. Sure, he clung to life, but what's life if you have nothing else except bitterness and misery? Certainly not a life _I'd_ want to live. And so his life sucked and the rest of us lived on, doing our best to clean up the mess left behind and try to suppress the nightmares left in his wake, the luckiest of us glad to have survived with only mental scarring.

And speaking of scarring, there was _him_, of course. The boy who saved us all, and yet lost it all, or at least most of it. Kind of like drinking a cup of tea- it tastes good and can be beneficial to your health, yet once it's all gone, all you're left with is a cup of crap that may very well spell out impending doom. I suppose I got off lucky compared to him. I too lost almost all, but at least what I was left with was a slightly better cup of tealeaves. But he never knew that both our tealeaves came from the same tree. His problems and mine were both rooted in the same disaster.

So he grew up with a crappy family and I grew up with a slightly less crappy (but crappy none the less) family. He turned eleven and went to Hogwarts and I turned eleven and went to Beuxbatons. We lived our lives quite separately until the end of our fourth year of schooling, when the rebirth of a man tore down the wall between our lives, which was built by the same man's near death.

I knew it was going to happen. I knew he would come back and it would be my time to step up. I knew that I would have a choice to make, and it certainly wasn't going to be an easy one.

I had come to a point in my life where my heart and mind were at constant war with each other, and frankly, I didn't know which would win. The only thing that I was one hundred percent sure of, was that by the end of my fifth school year, a line would be drawn and I would have to decide which side of it I was going to be on. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was more than just my heart and mind at war. It was as if my very soul was divided, the dark half against the light, one trying to destroy the other. Not just destroy, no, utterly _annihilate_, for that was exactly what the situation was outside of my little universe, the dark and light at full-out war. Well actually, it wasn't _quite_ to that point yet, but it would be, and that's when the line would be drawn.

I just didn't know whether I'd be able to cross it.

) 

"This year," Professor Dumbledore announced, "we will be joined by a student of Durmstrang. In fact, she is the sister of one of our present students. Please welcome Miss. Vega Malfoy!"

Harry Potter, who had been so hungry, anticipating the start-of-term feast, suddenly lost his appetite. "Not _another_ Malfoy," he heard his best friend, Ron Weasley, moan beside him, followed by sounds of agreement from their fellow Gryffindors.

The doors of the Great Hall were suddenly flung open, with a dark-haired girl standing betwixt them. She strode purposefully down the aisle between the house tables, every eye now upon her. Harry had been expecting a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl, if the precedent of her family was anything to go by. Apparently it wasn't.

In addition to her hair, which was a shade lighter than black, she had silvery eyes that flickered in the light of the thousands of candles that illuminated the Great Hall. At first glance, she looked nothing like the Malfoys, but upon closer inspection, one would notice her slightly pointed face and pale skin, appearing even paler under her dark tresses.

"Well someone's been seeing the milk man," Ron said under his breath, causing the few within earshot to laugh.

"Well, I dunno," Hermione replied, looking as if she was trying to remember something. "She looks kind of like Bellatrix Lestrange, in this one picture of her I saw in the Prophet. She _is_ Narcissa Malfoy's sister, after all, or at least according to that tapestry at Sirius's house."

"Say his name a little louder, why don'tcha," Harry hissed, hoping that nobody else heard his friend.

Vega was now sitting on the stool at the front of the Hall, and Professor McGonagall sat the Sorting Hat onto her head. Unlike her brother, who had been under the Hat for less than a second before it deemed him a Slytherin, the Hat took several minutes trying to decide where she'd go. Finally, after what seemed like ages to the hungry students already at their tables, the Hat proclaimed, "Slytherin!"

"Saw _that_ coming," someone farther down the table from the Trio commented loudly, which was followed by murmurs of assent.

"A year with two Malfoys and a toad for a teacher- isn't this going to be fun?" Ron said, angrily stabbing a piece of steak that had now appeared on the golden platters.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, knowing that Ron was right, at least if that sinking feeling in his stomach was anything to go by.

) 

A fine line runs between almost everything in life. Between good and evil, light and dark, genius and insanity, civilization and savagery, love and hate, life and death, and the list goes on. Sometimes we choose to cross that line, and other times we're pushed across it. And on occasion, that line is broken entirely, taking the choice out of anyone's hands. I didn't like any of the situations. If I chose to cross it myself, then that would mean that I was responsible for what I had done. If I had no choice in the matter, then at least I'd be able to blame someone else, and then, just maybe, no one would blame me. I had no such luck.

) 

"Does _anyone_ know the answer?" McGonagall said exasperatedly, clearly fed up with her fifth years. "Anyone other than Miss. Granger, that is." Dejectedly, Hermione put her hand down. "How about you then, Miss. Malfoy? The reports sent from your previous schools claim that you're an impeccable student, if wanting in discipline. Indeed, your disciplinary records are quite abysmal, but your grades are astounding. Prove yourself to me."

Vega, who had been leaning in her chair against the back wall, examining her fingernails and looking quite bored, looked up and drawled, "I have nothing to prove to you."

To say that McGonagall was pissed that a student had actually had the gall to say that to her, would be an understatement. "Well, Miss. Malfoy, if you are so confident, please tell me the answer, and it had better be right, or you will find yourself in my classroom Saturday night, having a detention."

Vega sighed, still looking rather bored and replied, "Fractured."

Looking a bit surprised, the professor said, "Good, Miss. Malfoy, and can anyone else tell me-"

"Although, that's really a misnomer," Vega interrupted. "The correct term would be 'dislocated', but as the wizards of that time still believed in the Essence Theory, they were sorely misinformed when they named the translocation errors."

"You know of the Essence Theory?" McGonagall asked incredulously.

"Yes, it's a rather entertaining read, as how ludicrous it is with what we know now."

"Yes," McGonagall replied, still looking astonished. "Five points to Slytherin."

Rather than looking smug (as her brother was, as if he had been the one who had one upped the teacher), she merely continued to lean against the wall, still looking bored. The only difference was that she had pulled out a nail file and was now filing her nails as opposed to looking at them.

After class, in the corridor, Harry and Ron ended up victim of Hermione's rantings. "The nerve of that girl!" she exclaimed. "And what was McGonagall on about with the whole 'previous schools' business?"

"Jealous, Granger?" a voice said from behind them. They turned around and came face to face with none other than Draco Malfoy, accompanied, ever as usual, by Crabbe and Goyle, and also by the sister in question. "You're no longer the smart one now- must make you mad."

"That's none of your business, Ferret," Hermione replied fiercely.

Malfoy's face reddened (or pinkened in his case) and snapped, "It involves my sister, so technically, that makes it my business."

Before any of the Trio could respond, Vega drawled, "Stop posturing, Draco. You'll only embarrass yourself."

This earned her several snickers from her fellow hall-goers. Her brother's face deepened even further in color as he said, "Well _sorry_, Sis. I was only speaking up for you."

"I wasn't aware I needed speaking up for. I swear, you are the most confrontational person I know." Turning to Hermione, she continued, "And don't worry, Miss. Granger, I'm not out to steal your position as teacher's pet. I really couldn't care less, as there other places I rather be. Speaking of which…" She took her brother's arm and led him down the corridor, away from the Trio.

"Where're we going?" they heard him ask, as his lackeys ambled along behind the siblings.

"To our next class. The sooner we get this day over with, the sooner I can do other things."

"Well she's… interesting," Ron said, not entirely sure what had just happened.

"She's dangerous," Harry replied grimly.

"What makes you say that?" Ron asked.

"Her brother strikes me more as being a mama's boy, as in he seems more like his mother. His sister though… She strikes me more as being like Lucius Malfoy, her father."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, "she seems more cunning, and certainly smarter. We'll have to keep an eye on her."

) 

Like father, like daughter they say. I don't know whether I should be flattered or insulted. I never really knew him, and he certainly never really knew _me_. Maybe it's better that way. It'll make what I have to do so much easier, whichever side I take.

Theoretically, I should have been closer to Mother. She is, after all, the one who wanted me. She wanted a girl, not just a boy. But as Draco and I grew up, I sort of drifted towards Father and he towards Mother. Yet no matter how close we got to our parents, they never really knew us. I suppose Mother and Draco were closer than Father and I. That's probably because Father was no longer my father in my eyes after the age of eight. If I don't take his side in the end, it'll all be his fault. But then again, it could also be his fault that I didn't turn out to be something much worse than what I already am.

) 

"You'll never believe it!" Hermione announced as she sat down across from Harry and Ron that night at dinner.

"We'll never believe what?" they asked in perfect unison. Realizing what they had done, they looked at each other for a moment, and then burst out laughing.

"Stop it!" Hermione demanded, her indignance at being one-upped academically making her temper a few inches shorter than usual. "I finally found out about the whole multiple schools thing going on with Malfoy's sister!"

The two boys stopped laughing at themselves, curious to hear what Hermione had to say. Although she had just arrived at Hogwarts the previous day, almost everyone had heard that Vega Malfoy had gone to several different schools before Hogwarts. However, no one seemed to know the specifics. There were quite a few rumors circulating about her having been expelled, which seemed to create a degree of fear in the school regarding her. She certainly wouldn't have been expelled for her grades, at least if her performance in class that day was anything to judge by.

"Well I heard from Parvati, who heard from Lavender, who heard from Angelina, who heard from Cho, who heard from her friend, Marietta, who heard from this shady Ravenclaw, Karen, who heard from the Slytherin she's dating (some guy named Simon), who heard from his ex (some girl named Amber), who heard from Pansy Parkinson that Vega Malfoy had first attended Beuxbatons, and she was apparently smart enough that they had her start school a year early," Hermione related to the boys breathlessly.

"How are you able to keep up with all that?" Ron asked in awe.

Ignoring Ron (yet in awe himself for the exact same reason, but knew better than to say anything), Harry asked, "Why'd she go to Beuxbatons?"

"Well it turns out that Hogwarts wouldn't let her start here a year early, yet she's so super brilliant or whatever that her parents decided to send her somewhere else instead. Durmstrang, their next choice, didn't allow early acceptance either, so they ended up sending her to Beuxbatons. So she stays there a year and everything's fine. Not. Apparently Miss. Malfoy's bored out of her mind and decides to blow stuff up. She causes so much damage that they expel her."

"So then she goes to Durmstrang, right?" Ron inquired.

"Wrong. She ends up attending the Dragonwing Academy of Enchantment in America."

"_America?_" Harry and Ron gasped together in amazement.

"Yep. She did some research or something, which makes it seem like she was _planning_ on being expelled, and found out that Dragonwing has a program for the academically gifted. You know, genius people like her."

"Or you," Harry offered.

"Or me," Hermione agreed. "But anyway, she goes there and everything seems to be fine for a year."

"And then kablewy," Ron guessed.

"Yeah, kablewy. She gets bored again and blows the place up. Well not the entire place, but a wing got torn to shreds. So then it's off to Durmstrang with her. But-"

"Wait," Harry interrupted, "I know. More explosions."

"Well, yeah. But it's not that simple. She seemed to be doing fine there. Really interested in her studies- I hear she got pretty deep in the dark arts, 'cause you know, they actually teach them there. They had wanted her to come to the Triwizard Tournament, hoping that they might bend the rules because she's so advanced and let her enter. But she refused to go because she was so engrossed in whatever it was she was studying. Then suddenly she freaks out and blows up a tower without any warning. I mean, before she had seemed really bored and listless at her other schools before she blew stuff up, but not this time.

"Since she was their best student and all her teachers adored her, the deputy headmaster, who was filling in for Karkaroff at the school, decided to give her a second chance. But she was apparently bent on leaving the school, because the next day she went and blew up half the school- literally. So of course, she got booted."

"And landed on our doorstep," Harry replied and Hermione nodded her head in agreement. "Lovely. Really, it's just our luck to be landed with a pyromaniac Malfoy."

) 

I'm not going to pretend like I'm a good person. Far from it. I just happen to be pissed off. Very pissed off. I may seem calm on the outside, but really I have quite the temper. And though I may be power hungry, I also know what's right (or at least I think I do). So where does that leave me? Torn. Torn straight down the middle. But there's more to my story, and so much more to me.

I don't know what he thought of me. He and his friends could have hated me for all I know. Well, I don't think _he_ hated me, at least not in the end. But _they_ might have. Or maybe not. I don't know. I'm not used to not knowing. It may be cliché, but it truly is my gift and my curse. I wouldn't have been in such a mess if I was normal, or at least as normal as one can be as a witch.

St. Mungo's told my family that I am the way I am because my mother had been hit in the stomach while pregnant with me. It had been during a crucial part of brain development and the odds were against me. There was an 85 chance that I would have retained brain damage (the extent of which varying), a 10 chance that I would have the opposite effect (resulting in genius), and a 5 chance that there would be no effect. So the odds were 9 to 1 that I would be normal or stupid. I guess I should consider myself lucky, though sometimes I wonder. You know how earlier I had mentioned the tealeaves spelling out impending doom? Well my tealeaves put me in that 10, dooming me in the process.

I'm cursed. You're cursed. We're all bloody well cursed. The whole friggin' species is cursed. Why? Because we're human. People speak of how the wizarding world should be united as one, instead of constantly fighting. But that's impossible, because humanity's cursed. There will forever be a line dividing us, keeping us from true unity. There will always be a line separating brother from brother (or in this case brother from sister). We will always be on separate sides of the spectrum and heaven forbid the merging of the two sides, because that would more than spell out doom- it would be a bloody apocalypse.

I guess that's why I never really cared for tea.


End file.
